


In A Little Pickle

by pomegranateoctopus



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Family Bonding, Gen, Pickle's Nephew is a Sweet Boy, Pickles Learning How to Uncle, Probably More Adult Language Than Is Appropriate For a Fic With a Kid In It, The Rest of His Family Continues To Be Terrible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 11:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14872928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pomegranateoctopus/pseuds/pomegranateoctopus
Summary: It’s not the Pickles doesn’t want to meet his nephew. It’s just the ungrateful douchebag family that surrounds the kid that’s the problem.





	In A Little Pickle

Nathan found Pickles sitting at the kitchen table of Mordhaus, glaring at a brightly colored card in his hands like it had stolen the last bottle of vodka on the planet. He would have just grabbed the bag of chips he was after and left the drummer to… whatever it was he was doing, if Pickles hadn’t spoken up.  
“He’s pure evil, Nathan.”  
“Uhhh… who?” Nathan was only half paying attention, carefully considering the weighty decision of barbeque versus salt and vinegar flavor.  
“Seth,” Pickles spat with the venom he reserved for his family.  
Having ultimately decided on both flavors for his snack, Nathan wondered what Pickles’ asshole brother had to do with a card covered with multicolored balloons and confetti. His questions were soon answered as Pickles stood from his seat at the table, pacing and waving the card in the air.  
“I thought I knew how low that motherfucker could sink! But no, this time he can’t just try to worm his way into my life and bleed me dry like he always does. Now he’s getting his fuckin’ kid in on the act!” He punctuated the rant by slapping the card down on the table. Now invested in the drama, Nathan picked the offending paper up, squinting at the text without the aid of his glasses. The outside cheerfully announced “You’re Invited!,” a handwritten note inside that somehow felt slimy for Nathan to read.  
Pickles,  
Little Davey’s turning 5 next week, and he says he wants his Uncle Pickles to come to his birthday party more than anything. I know you’re busy being a big hotshot rock star and shit, but you better not disappoint my little man. Party’s at my place on the 17th at noon. Make sure to get him something good.  
-Seth  
It was times like these that made Nathan glad to be an only child with no obligations like these to deal with.  
“Couldn’t you just… Not go?” Nathan offered sagely. It seemed like the easiest solution to the problem, and he wasn’t particularly interested in thinking too hard about helping Pickles with his family crap.  
“And give that douchebag more reasons to think I owe him something? No,” Pickles slumped back into his seat at the table, “I gotta go to my nephew’s birthday party.”

\---

“I still don’ts gets why you wanteds me to helps you picks out a borthsday present?”  
Pickles looked Toki dead in the eyes; picturing his collections of stuffed animals and the model airplanes that hung from his bedroom ceiling, the pastel fleece pajamas he wore when he watched cartoons in the living room eating the sugariest cereals his diabetes would allow. Pickles smiled and put a hand on his shoulder.  
“’Cause you’re a good pal.”  
Toki seemed to buy it, a wide smile breaking out on his face.  
“Aww, t’anks Pickle!”  
From the moment they entered the toy store, Pickles already felt overwhelmed by the sea of plastic and plush. He hoped he could keep Toki focused for long enough for them to find something suitable for a five year old. He let Toki lead the way, the two musicians wandering the brightly colored aisles. Pickles immediately vetoed anything clown related Toki tried to suggest. Only people who had childhoods as fucked up as Toki’s actually liked clowns, and Pickles hoped to the metal gods that Seth wasn’t that much of a piece of shit to his kid. They examined toy weapons construction sets and science kits, debated the merits of ninjas versus pirates versus superheroes. Finally, Pickles’ attention was caught by a flash of metallic green. He picked up a hefty box proudly showing off a robotic dinosaur and remote control inside. It was expensive enough that Seth couldn’t call him a cheapskate over it, and he couldn’t see any of those small parts that were bad for little kids for some reason.  
“Hey, what about this one?” He held the box up to Toki for approval.  
“Oh, cools! Ja, dat’s a good ones! Everybody likes de dinosaurs, rights?”  
That was certainly true. Even as Pickles’ interests had turned to rock n’ roll and illicit substances as a kid, he still remembered having a healthy appreciation for a good old t-rex or stegosaurus. As they left with his present and several items for Toki, as they had agreed, Pickles felt a little better about the whole party ordeal. Maybe he could actually do this.

\---

He couldn’t do this.  
Pickles was baking in the Australian heat, his only source of respite his cup of what used to be fruit punch, now replaced completely with whiskey from his hip flask. His father glares at him from across the yard every time he pulls it out, but Pickles is beyond caring at this point. He supposed he was lucky to have avoided his mom for as long as he did, but she had him cornered and was on her usual lecture of how Seth was so responsible and such a good father and what was Pickles doing with his life, still playing around with that band of his. In the background, Amber chatted with other equally disinterested looking moms, a handful of rowdy kids wrestled in the dirt while their dads, the greasy lowlife types that always seemed to flock around Pickle’s brother, made shady deals amongst themselves. Sitting at the table piled with presents and a plain looking blue and white sheet cake was little David, playing a handheld video game, having long given up on trying to play with the other kids. Pickles felt bad that he had initially assumed the kid was in on Seth’s manipulative bullshit. He had thought his nephew would be a little hellspawn, like his brother had been as a child. Instead Pickles only saw a lonely little boy, trying to enjoy a crappy birthday party. Pickles felt like he was being suffocated under all this heat and judgment, but he had decided when he saw David that he wouldn’t let his family get to him, even as they weighed him down with their usual complaints. He was surprised when his relief came from Seth.  
“Alright, time for presents!”  
As David unwrapped generic sports equipment and t-shirts for year old movies, Pickles started to feel better about his presence at the party. At least he had gotten a good present for the kid. At least they couldn’t give him shit about that. Pickles felt himself stand a little taller as Seth pulled out his present.  
“This one’s from your Uncle Pickles. Should be a good one, he’s really rich,” Seth said, directed completely at Pickles. David unwrapped his toy and Pickles swore he saw a sparkle in the boy’s eyes for the first time that afternoon. His growing pride was soon squashed by a mutter from his brother.  
“Guy’s got all the money in the fuckin’ world and only gets the kid one present.”  
Of course.  
“I can’t believe you, Pickles,” his mother said from behind him.  
Of. Fucking. Course.  
“You don’t visit your nephew even once since he was born, and now you think you can just buy your way into his life with some expensive toy?” Molly had wormed her way in front of Pickles, “You make me sick.”  
That was it. He couldn’t take this anymore.  
“God, there’s nothing I can do right for you people, is there?”  
It was then that the birthday boy burst into tears and ran into the house, leaving his brand new robot dinosaur half-opened on the table.  
“Look what you’ve done now, Pickles!”

\---

Pickles had stomped into Seth's kitchen in search of more booze, but instead he stumbled on his nephew curled into a tiny sniffling ball under the table. He kneeled down to the boy’s level and tried to speak as gently as possible.  
“Hey, buddy. You doin’ ok?”  
David minutely shook his head. Dumb question.  
“Mind if I sit next to you?”  
The boy shrugged. Pickles squashed himself into the little space, for once thankful for his short stature. He had no idea what to do now. He didn’t even know how to comfort a grown adult, much less a little kid.  
“Hey, um. I’m sorry if you didn’t like your present. I can, uh, buy you something else if that helps?”  
“No, I like it.” David’s voice was small and quiet. Pickles realized that this was the first time he had actually talked to his nephew, beyond the awkward greeting they’d shared earlier that day.  
“So, uh, something else up then?”  
The little boy was silent for a moment.  
“The party was so boring. Daddy didn’t invite my friends, just those mean kids from my class and their weird dads. And then everybody started yelling and-“ He whimpered and curled in on himself tighter. Pickles took a chance and put a hand on the boy’s back, rubbing gently.  
“Yeah. Doesn’t sound like a very fun birthday. I’m sorry.”  
“I thought it would be fun with you here.”  
Pickles was taken aback by that. He had assumed that Seth had been lying about David wanting him there.  
“You really wanted me to come?”  
The boy looked up at Pickles with watery eyes, his expression serious as a five year old’s could be.  
“You’re so cool! You’re a rock star and you’re my uncle! But-but you don’t like me…”  
“No, no, no!” Pickles interjected quickly. God, he was the worst uncle in the world. “I do like you! It’s just… Our family… They aren’t the nicest people to be around. But you’re not like that.”  
“Really?”  
“Yeah, you’re cool. Rock stars can always tell when somebody’s cool.”  
Pickles saw that little bit of sparkle return to his nephew’s eyes. He wondered if there was a way he could keep it there.  
“Hey, I got an idea. Tomorrow, would you wanna spend the day hanging around with your Uncle Pickles and his band?”

\---

“No, nope, nuh-uh. No way we’re spending the day hanging around with some little kid.” Was what the members of Dethklok said five minutes before meeting Pickles’ nephew David. Five minutes after meeting him, the band was dead set on giving the kid the best, most metal post-birthday a boy could ask for. The six stormed arcades, ice cream parlors, even a petting zoo (partly with the logic that Australian petting zoos are more brutal because everything in Australia can kill you, partly with insistence from Toki.) One by one, the band’s uncaring brutal facades began to crack under the innocent wonder of a small child.  
Nathan spent a good portion of the day with David perched on his shoulders, the two intently discussing the brutality of various dinosaurs.  
Skwisgaar ate up the enraptured way the boy watched him play, which led to the guitarist pulling out increasingly more complicated techniques to keep his attention.  
Murderface and Toki delighted in crafting elaborate and violent stories for the monster finger puppets and tiny parachuters David had won at the arcade.  
By the time they were on the Dethcopter heading for Seth’s place, the band was seriously discussing the merits of adopting/kidnapping/buying him from his parents, before they realized there was actual work involved in having the kid around and promptly gave up on that idea. David left the chopper with his uncle to a chorus of suspiciously un-brutal sounding goodbyes. Just before reaching the front door, the little boy abruptly turned and threw his arms around Pickles’ waist.  
“Thanks Uncle Pickles.”  
“No problem buddy,” Pickles replied, awkwardly returning the hug as best as he could.  
“Can you come visit again?”  
He knew he should say no. Seeing David again meant dealing with Seth, and Pickles didn’t know if he could deal with seeing that greedy douche’s face on a regular basis. But with those big eyes staring up at him from that sweet freckled face…  
“Of course, any time kiddo.”  
Seth opened the door to let his son in, immediately questioning him on what kinds of things he’d managed to make his uncle pay for. Just before the door closed, David looked back at Pickles with a smile and held up his hand in the classic devil horns.  
Yeah. Pickles could deal with Seth for this kid.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't always write fanfic, but when I do it... um... I don't know how to end that.
> 
> There's basically no Pickles and his nephew content, so I decided to give the fandom what it probably didn't need but has anyway now. The story basically just came to me as a series of scenes and eventually I just decided to write those scenes, string them together, and say screw the rest.


End file.
